The New Adventures of the Invincible Iron Man
by TonyStarkakaIronMan
Summary: Iron Man's greatest enemies combine forces to take the Golden Avenger down once and for all. This is my tribute to everything that is great about ol' Shellhead. Now if only Marvel could publish his book on a monthly basis again.
1. Viva Las Vegas

The dealer expertly shuffled the cards and passed them out to the four people sitting at the Blackjack table. Slot machines chimed, coins jingled, and various other noises competed to be heard in the background of the casino, but the local atmosphere of the high rollers section was quiet, almost anticipatory. Nearly a million dollars in chips were sitting on the table; most of it in front of one man.

The air was surprisingly clean, with little of the cigarette haze so common in the casinos of Las Vegas. There were also no complimentary alcoholic beverages in the vicinity of the table, either next to the players or in the hands of the few privileged (and universally gorgeous) onlookers. This was highly unusual and generally against the Strip's policy. Drinking and smoking go hand in hand with gambling, and if no one is gambling, the house isn't making any money.

But policies were meant to be bent or even broken under special circumstances. Usually these circumstances involved hosting a special (specifically _financially_ special) guest. The man at the table with most of the chips doesn't care for second hand smoke, nor does he care to drink. What makes the _casino_ care is that this particular man has a net worth rivaling that of Bill Gates. To be honest, if the well-dressed man with the perfectly styled dark hair and precisely groomed mustache had wanted the entire casino to himself, the house manager would have tripped over himself to get it done as quickly as possible.

Anthony Stark often had that effect on people.

Each player at the table was a billionaire. Even multimillionaires would think twice about the $100,000 minimum bet limit. Sharing the table with the famous multinational corporate genius was a Saudi prince, one of the Wal-Mart heirs, and a founder of a successful Silicon Valley startup. Gathered around the table were a dozen or so beautiful women of various races. Their primary job was scenery, although no doubt they were capable of more interactive services as well.

Mr. Stark tolerated few vices, but the fairer sex was one of them.

"Oooo, Mr. Stark!" cooed one particularly ample blonde as his second card was revealed to be a seven of clubs. In addition to his nine of hearts, he now had 16. Stark glanced at the dealer.

Two face cards. "Dealer stands at 20."

"Call me Tony," he replied to the woman as the Saudi cursed in his native tongue and left the table with three of the lovely ladies. The Wal-Mart heir had 12, while Silicon Valley had 15. The dealer collected the Saudi's lost chips and waited patiently.

"Well, you can call _me_ anytime!" replied the cute brunette on his left, not so subtly caressing his upper arm.

Tony smiled in reply, "Hit me."

"Me, too," said Wal-Mart, while Silicon Valley decided enough was enough.

"Yes, sir," The two cards sliced neatly through the air. Wal-Mart nervously flipped up his card and revealed a six of spades.

Tony casually peeked at his card, smiled and turned it over.

Five of diamonds.

"I believe that's 21."

"Indeed it is, sir. You win another $300,000."

The crowd burst into applause.

Wal-Mart gaped at him, "Geeze, Stark, you're on a streak tonight."

Tony smiled back, "Fortune favors the bold, my friend."

An hour later, Tony found himself on a private elevator to the casino's penthouse. Despite the protests of no less than a half dozen of his female entourage, he was alone.

He watched as the neon circus that was the Vegas Strip came into view and his personal encrypted cellular link completed the call to his Long Island headquarters of Stark Enterprises. Surprisingly, someone answered the call.

"Mr. Stark's office, Mrs. Abrogast speaking."

"Mrs. Abrogast? What are you doing there? It must be---" checking his watch "after midnight!"

"Yes, sir, but you've gotten behind in your corporate email again, and I thought I'd try to get you caught up."

"Mrs. A, you know I don't pay you overtime," Tony teased.

"Sir! If you think I'm doing this just so I can get some more money—"

"Joking, Mrs. A! Joking. But seriously, go home. Take a sick day."

"I'm sorry, sir, but there is simply too much work. I couldn't possibly—"

"Consider it an order, then. I don't want to hear that you've come into work until next Monday."

"But—"

"End of story," he said firmly, as the elevator stopped, opening into a luxurious hallway that led to an equally magnificent penthouse.

"I assume you did call for a reason, sir," Mrs. Abrogast replied, switching gears abruptly.

"What? Oh, yes. There will be an electronic transfer of 1.6 million dollars coming in tomorrow. I want half of that to go to the Maria Stark Foundation and the rest to whichever charities have been having the greatest problems raising money lately. Pick one local, one national, and one international. Anonymous donation, of course."

"Of course, sir. Anything else?"

"Any word from Ms. Dria?"

"No, sir. Not a word from _her_," his executive secretary replied coolly. Mrs. Abrogast never did care much for his choice of companions.

"Okay, Mrs. A. Thanks."

As the connection ended, Tony looked about his spacious apartment, barely glancing at the amazing vista spread out before him beyond the huge windows.

_Alone, again. _He sighed. _ Naturally._

- - - - -

"What are you, crazy? You can't rob a casino!"

The huge man in the trench coat reached out casually with one of his massive hands and lifted the shocked security guard effortlessly off the floor of the main casino. The portly man's feet dangled nearly a yard from the ground as he was brought face to face with the reddish-haired, unshaved visage of his captor. The giant had to be nine or ten feet tall with vastly proportioned limbs and torso.

"Do I look crazy?" he said pointedly.

He looked mean. In fact, he looked like the kind of man who was used to getting what he wanted and wouldn't think twice about popping his head off like a bottle cap. _He could probably just use he thumb to do it . . ._

The guard found his voice, "Uh, n-no sir. O-of course not."

"Good." He dropped the guard casually. "Now where's the cash?"

"The vault's in the back," the guard stated, scrambling to his feet warily and backing off, "But there's a yard of concrete surrounding it, not to mention all the guards and security devices. You'd need a tank to get through it all!"

The man shrugged off his trench coat revealing some crazy kind of brown armor, complete with boots and a dome-like helmet which the man quickly attached to his shoulders. The guard shrank back, terrified recognition in his eyes.

"Nothing can stop me," the armored man said simply.

And he began to walk.

- - - - -

Tony Stark was brushing his teeth when he felt the first tremor and had the armor half on when he heard the first explosion. The night air of the penthouse patio felt cool on his face as he stepped outside, finishing the start up procedure and polarizing the armor around him. The sound of wailing sirens was briefly muted as he put the red and gold helmet over his head, locking it into place. The HUD lit up, showing all systems at peak efficiency. Boot jets ignited, catapulting him into the crisp night air of Nevada, as he mentally tuned into the local law enforcement channel.

_Never a dull moment . . ._

- - - - -

The teenage boy watched the bus leave the station before he turned to take in his surroundings. He was a handsome young man, sixteen and a half years of age, with intelligent blue eyes and black hair. Dressed casually with baggy jeans, sneakers, an Eminem concert T-Shirt, and brown bomber-style leather jacket, he slung a stuffed black backpack over a shoulder and began to walk through the crowd towards an exit.

He had wanted to get here during a weekday, but getting away from his family had been harder than he thought, and so here he was late on a Friday (or was it early Saturday?) night. He wasn't sure exactly where he had to go, but he was a pretty bright kid and knew how to read a map. He'd read somewhere that the New York City subway system was one of the most extensive in the world.

One of the lines had to go near the Long Island Stark Enterprises compound.

- - - - -

The MGM Grand casino was a mess.

Slot machines and game tables were tossed everywhere like a child's discarded toys, while police and security forces attempted to evacuate patrons, half of whom running for their lives while the rest attempted to pocket as many coins and chips as possible. The lion habitat's glass walls had been breached, and Iron Man had had to waste precious minutes rounding up two of the escaped felines and repairing the wall with the thermal setting on his Unibeam. It wasn't pretty, but the animals weren't going anywhere for a while.

Taking to the air again, Iron Man scanned for the source of the destruction. A path of carnage led straight to the rear of the promenade, where most of the civilians had been removed. A rather impressive hole in the wall showed where the perpetrator had gone. A couple higher-ranking police officers were peering into it warily.

"What's the story, officer?" The Golden Avenger asked, landing neatly by them.

"Who the hell---" the shocked lieutenant did a double take and then composed herself, "Oh, thank God! Iron Man, you have to help us! We're really not equipped to deal with this type of thing. He's gone right through everything we've got and---"

"Slow down, Lieutenant---" glancing at the badge "Ramirez. Where is he now and are there any more civilians in danger?"

"He was at the vault but we think he went out the back. He could be back on the streets by now so I don't know about civilians."

"There was a back exit near the vault?"

"Uh, no," Ramirez said, "He might have gone right through the wall."

"Okay, I'm on it. Tell your superiors to handle crowd control while I take care of this guy. Try to evacuate a several block radius. These things sometimes get out of control." He turned to go.

"Be careful! He's HUGE!"

"Don't worry, I'm sure I've handle worse."

Iron Man took off and followed the path of destruction through the casino. Sure enough, it led up to and through the vault, and out into the street. Several over turned cars marked the path of the thief as well as bread crumbs ever could.

- - - - -

"Out of my way!" A casual flip of the wrist and an SUV went tumbling like a Matchbox car. Another car swerved to avoid him and ended up hitting a parked van.

All he had to do was get out into the desert and let things die down for a few days. He must have scored at least a million, maybe more. Enough to live comfortably in some Central American rat hole for several months. He was overdue for a vacation and sick of dealing with Charlie and his mutie followers. Piece of cake.

The ground exploded in front of him, jarring him from his thoughts. A crater about 15 feet across blocked his way.

"I thought that would get your attention." A metallic voice boomed from above as a red and golden armored man slowly lowered in front of him.

Cain Marko recognized him and frankly didn't care.

"Better move along, Iron Man. You can't stop me."

"I'm sorry, friend, but you have me at a disadvantage. You know me, but I can't say I've had the pleasure of beating you." Repulsor blasts emitted from both palms, slamming into the large man with spectacular force.

And did absolutely nothing.

"I am the Juggernaut." The giant hefted a mini-van with one hand and tossed it at the Avenger. "And you're just wasting your time."

Iron Man darted to the side, catching the vehicle magnetically, and setting it down gracefully across the street. The two combatants faced each other from across the crater.

"Juggernaut, huh? You've fought the X-men before, right? Well, welcome to the major leagues." Boot jets flared, and the Avenger charged at his foe.

Juggernaut lurched forward slightly and brought one arm up, connecting with the human projectile, and sending him careening twenty stories up into a nearby hotel.

"Idiot."

- - - - -

The rooms Iron Man crashed through were fortunately empty as his momentum utterly destroyed them. He came to rest near a bank of elevators somewhere in the center of the high rise. Standing back up carefully, he checked his systems and armor integrity.

_So far, so good. _He thought, _But what the hell is that guy made of? Some kind of force field apparently._

He ran a scan with his sensors. Force fields could be taken down or overloaded. Once he had a frequency, the armor could make the proper adjustments and---

SCAN COMPLETE, the armor informed him, FORCE FIELD COMPOSED OF UNINDENTIFIED ENERGY SIGNATURE. DOES NOT CORRESPOND WITH ANY KNOWN RADIATION INCLUDING GAMMA, DARKFORCE, PSIONIC, IONIC, PLASMA, OR ELECTROMAGNETIC. CONCLUSION: MYSTICAL IN NATURE.

"Great. Magic. I hate magic."

_This is going to be harder than I thought._

_-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Technically, this should be filed under Iron Man, but I wanted people to know it's out there so I put in under Marvel. Leave a review. Iron Man is my favorite hero of all-time and I want to know if you think I've done him justice.

NEXT ISSUE: Iron Man vs. Juggernaut. 'Nuff Said.


	2. The Invincible vs the Unstoppable

"Computer, access Avengers database. Topic: Juggernaut."

Iron Man dove out of the sizable hole in the building he had created when the Juggernaut deflected his charge mere moments before. Boot jets ignited and dozens of nanotech gyroscopes stabilized the red and golden armored hero as he went into nap of the Earth flight mode, barely 15 feet above the streets of Las Vegas.

Many were now clogged with abandoned cars and panicking tourists. _Thank goodness Juggernaut is heading AWAY from the Strip. Still, there are too many civilians around for my taste. I've got to get this confrontation outside the city limits somehow. _

_At least this guy doesn't appear to be the murdering type. He could have easily massacred dozens by now . . ._

TOPIC JUGGERNAUT FOUND, his heads up display informed him, NO DIRECT CONTACT WITH THE AVENGERS. FREQUENT FOE OF THE X-MEN (X-MEN DATABASE CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE/OFFLINE) . LAST KNOWN ENCOUNTER WITH AN AVENGER: THOR. THOR'S REPORT AS FOLLOWS—

"Switch to verbal," Tony commanded, following the seemingly endless trail of overturned vehicles and one tractor-trailer that appeared to have been torn in two. The crowds were thinning out, but the police blockade had to be somewhere up ahead. He had to get there before Juggernaut or those officers would be in big trouble.

"Verily, the Juggernaut is a worthy foe!" Thor strong voice boomed in his ears. "Yon villain couldst withstand Mjolnir's mightiest blows and battle the scion of Odin to a standstill."

_Well, isn't that a pleasant thought._

"Alas, even mine own godly strength proved insufficient to lay low my foe. I opened a dimensional portal with mine hammer and didst best the Juggernaut on the plane of reality his power doth draw from. 'Twas not the glorious victory I sought, but a victory none the less."

_Great. No help there. I left my transdimensional portal in my other armor._

His sarcasm faded as he rounded a corner and took in the devastation before him.

Police cars were everywhere. Some were piled on top of each other while others were practically flattened. Two were upside down in the middle of the avenue, while one stuck half way out of the third story of a hotel, its siren lights flashing crazily across the neon signs above it. The SWAT vans hadn't fared any better. In fact, Juggernaut was lifting one now, its occupants struggling to escape before the large man tossed them the way a child would throw a toy car during a tantrum. All around officers were running, shooting, trying to save civilians, and becoming lost within the sea of humanity that attempted to avoid this unexpected and terrifying wave of destruction.

"ENOUGH!" Iron Man shouted, allowing his external speaker to throw his voice out above the commotion and chaos. Coming from behind, he tore the SWAT van out of Juggernaut's grasp, leaving his foe with only two handfuls of metal. Setting down several yards away, the Avenger quickly lowered the vehicle and got between the Juggernaut and the ruined remains of the police line. "You're not going to endanger any more lives tonight, Juggernaut!"

"Really?" the armored giant replied, cradling the large bags of loot in one arm. "And how exactly are you going to stop me?"

Tony Stark had to admit that was a damn good question.

- - - - -

As luck would have it, the subway had a line the led went right by the Stark Enterprises Long Island compound. In fact, there were two dedicated stops; a testament both to the complex's size and importance to the region. This was in addition to the four highway exits, private airstrip, and port access.

_He's probably even got a tunnel or two,_ the young man thought as he exited the train. It was even later now, almost to the point were people began to use the term early. He'd blown curfew before, but never quite this bad. When his mother woke up she'd be worried sick.

When she read the note he'd left behind, she'd be furious.

He walked to the edge of the elevated platform and looked at the large group of buildings in the distance. They were well lit and very modern in that techno sort of way one often saw in science fiction movies. He didn't doubt they were among the most advanced and environmentally friendly buildings on Earth. He'd been to the Baxter Building once on a school field trip and, although they never got to see the real cool stuff on the top levels, he'd recognized enough technology to realize it was quite an amazing piece of architecture. He expected to find a similar level of advancement here.

He slung his backpack over the other shoulder, turned to the facilities map that was conveniently posted next to the elevator, and looked for his objective. It was a little cooler out here on Long Island than he'd expected, but the ocean wasn't that far away and wind chill had that kind of effect. Something to do with the differing heat capacities of land and water---

He stopped himself and grinned. Even when he didn't particularly want it to, his brain never seemed to stop thinking. _Guess that shouldn't really surprise me . . ._

He looked at the map for about a minute, memorizing the important locations and their relative positions. If he tripped some kind of alarm, it could all go to hell real quick. He decided to take the stairs down to ground level. He saw the men's restroom and looked over his shoulder. He was alone at the station.

He went inside, checked under the stalls to make sure no one was there, and then shoved the large trashcan in front of the door. Feeling as secure as he probably would ever be in this particular situation, he opened his backpack and began to change.

- - - - -

Turned out that the pulse bolts were just as ineffective as the repulsors.

_Whatever that force field is made of, it absorbs just about everything that's thrown at it. There's no energy signature I can lock on to and apparently it has an unlimited power supply._

Iron Man sighed.

_Isn't magic FUN?_

He wanted to try the sonics, but there were still too many people around so he activated his holographic projector. While Juggernaut was kept busy trying to hit phantom Iron Men, he continued to think of and almost immediately discard options. Magnetism? Nope, the mystical armor apparently didn't generate a magnetic field. Ultrafreon? Probably wouldn't hold him for long. Call in the rest of the Avengers?

_No. Not yet, at least._

The problem was power. He just didn't have enough at his disposal to---

Or did he?

A faint hope germinated deep within his mind. There were a dozen ways it could fail, but he was running out of options. He had to try.

_First things, first._ He had to get Juggernaut out of the city. Despite all of his power, this guy wasn't very bright and that WAS a weakness he could exploit.

"Quit being such a coward, Iron Man!" Juggernaut bellowed as his huge fist passed through yet another holographic projection. Increasingly irritated, Cain Marko began to use both hands to swat at the faux Avengers that surrounded him, still holding his loot clenched tightly in one. The large bags dangled back and forth wildly as the massive limbs struck out in a vain attempt to connect with his true foe.

Iron Man saw his opening.

A low intensity repulsor blast neatly sheared the bags from Juggernaut's fist, leaving him holding only the very top material. Some cash spilled out over the street, but the majority of it stayed inside the sacks.

"You sonuva---" Ultrafreon interrupted the tirade as the Juggernaut's body became completely frozen in a large chunk of ice.

Immediately, Iron Man primed his bootjets, slammed into the block, and took off with it into the night sky. As he cleared the skyline, the ice was already cracking.

He poured on the speed, internal guidance computer plotting the most efficient route to his desired destination. _Just give me 30 more seconds . . ._

He ended up with five as the ice exploded into a thousand tiny fragments.

"I'm gonna kill ya! I'm gonna rip open that suit like a can of beans!"

Juggernaut paused, realizing he was in mid-air. "What the---"

The rest was lost as repulsor rays slammed into him, forcing him higher into the air. They didn't hurt him at all, but they added momentum to his flight, carrying him further and further from the city center.

Iron Man looped under him, grabbed a leg and sped onwards into the night, carrying the Juggernaut upside down. At the same time he worked furiously with his communications, letting his destination know that he was coming and what he would need when he got there.

_This just might work, after all._

- - - - -

On the other side of the world, it was approaching mid-day. The tropical ocean air warmed the tiny private island as various gardeners and landscapers toiled to improve the natural beauty of the flora to the owner's desire of perfection. Although they were poorly paid, they knew better than to disappoint their employer. The consequences were always unpleasant and sometimes fatal.

They worked especially hard today because their employer had special guests. The kind of guests he wished to impress, and therefore the type of people the workers prayed would ignore them. This was usually most prudent policy in these situations, and they did their best to avoid looking at the amazing aircraft that had set down only hours before. They pretended the strangely garbed guardians of the airship were invisible and went about their business.

The servants of Justin Hammer knew their place.

High above the lush, yet manicured, jungle was an immense villa. Imported marble statues and oak-paneled walls adorned its interior, along with crystal chandeliers and plush hand made rugs. Hazy tropical sunlight shone through intricate stained glass windows onto equally detailed tile floors. Most of the furniture was custom made and the paintings on the walls were worth a small fortune alone.

Cleverly concealed among this elegance was one of the most sophisticated security systems known to man. It was supervised by surveillance professionals; just one unit of Hammer's private army. They were the best money could buy, top of the line cadets from the Taskmaster's schools. As well trained as they were, these weren't the elite forces Hammer had at his disposal.

Two of these specialists, Boomerang and Blizzard, framed Justin Hammer on either side as he spoke to his guests in the main conference room. Although not the most powerful of his operatives, they were among the smartest, and they knew how to keep their mouths shut. They could also respond instantly if things soured.

Negotiations at this level had to be carefully crafted, especially when dealing with partners who probably considered themselves to be in the superior position. When he had received the message that they wanted to meet with him, Hammer had been highly suspicious. Curiosity eventually won out, however, leading to his current situation.

"Would you care for some wine, gentlemen? It's from my private vineyard in France. The '63 is a particularly excellent vintage."

The three gentlemen demurred.

"I could get you some straws, if you insist on those masks. You must be quite warm in those environmental suits."

"We didn't come here for pleasantries, Mr. Hammer. They are quite an inefficient use of our time," the one in the center commented, his voice carrying a slight electronic distortion from the built-in speaker. While all three looked similar in the yellow uniforms which concealed their features, his outfit bore some additional insignia denoting a superior rank, "We are here to discuss a mutually beneficial arrangement against a common foe."

Hammer expected as much. He leaned back in his leather chair, holding the glass of wine casually. "By all means, continue, dear boy."

"We are well aware of your . . . encounters with Stark Enterprises and Iron Man. Both of these entities have been an obstacle to our endeavors, as well."

"Yes," Hammer said mildly, "Advanced Idea Mechanics has had its head handed to it on more than one occasion by Stark's little errand boy."

If AIM's representative was annoyed by this comment, he didn't show it. Of course, the cylinder-shaped helmets didn't show much of anything. Even their eyes were shielded by a rectangular mesh grate.

"Indeed, Mr. Hammer. However, many of these . . . setbacks were by rather narrow margins. A few more resources here, a special counter strategy there, and those defeats could have easily been transformed into victories."

The AIM spokesman leaned forward slightly, "Our leader believes that if we were to pool our resources, the outcome would be dramatically different."

Justin Hammer put down his glass of wine and laced his fingers together in front of him. His eyes brightened with malevolent intent.

"I'm listening."

- - - - -

Somewhere over Southern Nevada, within a few miles of the Arizona border, it had all went to hell.

Juggernaut had wrenched himself free and plummeted thousands of feet to the ground below. By the time Iron Man had dove down to reclaim his unwilling passenger, his massive foe had landed in the middle of Route 93, the main highway that lead to Vegas from the south.

Before Tony Stark's horrified eyes, his opponent backhanded the cab of a gasoline truck and tossed the tanker section right at him. The Golden Avenger attempted to pull up, but the tanker smashed into him, ruptured, and ignited when the spilled gasoline touched his bootjets.

After that, he lost track of things for a while.

Although the protective padding inside the armor kept him conscious, the sheer magnitude of the explosion stunned him temporarily. The gyros attempted to keep him aloft but were unable to compensate for such a sudden change in speed and direction.

He didn't remember hitting the ground, but when the world came back into focus he was prone in the middle of a blazing inferno. The refractory coating was keeping the heat within tolerable levels, but his ultrafreon reserves hadn't recharged and the armor was taking serious exterior damage. Several warning systems had activated, the most serious of which being the bootjets propulsion relays. They were down and couldn't be reactivated for at least several minutes.

He was about to stand when something hideously powerful slammed him back into the charred ground. More warning lights flashed. Armor integrity was about to be breached.

Something picked him up, denting the armor in several places as Tony grimaced in pain. There was incredible pressure on his left shoulder, and he threw a desperate punch with his free arm.

It, too, was caught savagely as a dark looming shadow coalesced out of the raging flames and brought him face-to-face with his foe. Oblivious to the conflagration, Juggernaut sneered as he held Iron Man in a vise-like grip.

"Not so invincible now, are ya?"

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Was having so much fun writing this, that I decided not to wait very long to put it up. Just don't expect this rate of updating in the future. I do have to work after all.

NEXT ISSUE: The conclusion of our titanic tussle! Plus: More on the mysterious young intruder and the AIM-Hammer alliance! Miss it at your own peril!


	3. Endgame

Stanley Lieber was engrossed in the live broadcast from Las Vegas when he heard the first thump. The 64 year old Stark security guard tore his eyes from the recorded footage of Iron Man's brief fight with some giant guy in brown armor---who could keep track of them all, anyway?---and looked at the monitor bank to his right. These screens put the television to shame with their high definition resolution and multi-spectrum capacity. The vocal controls weren't too shabby, either.

Another thump from above brought Stanley back to the task as hand.

"Camera 7 and 12, zoom in and enhance sector 4, outpost Beta."

The roof of the same small sentry station he was assigned to appeared.

Nothing was there.

The cameras then began to cycle through the spectrum, changing every five seconds. Stanley didn't remember all of the different modes, but he knew infrared and ultraviolet were the first two. Neither of these picked up anything. The other scans seemed to be just as inconclusive.

Stanley sighed. He needed this aggravation like a hole in the head.

He was six months from retirement, and unlike his friends at Oscorp and Roxxon, he hadn't been forced to take an early buy out. All he had to do was come to work and avoid any mistakes, and Mr. Stark's generous pension plan would be sending him and the wife to a nice home in Arizona near their son and the grandkids. He'd been with the company over three decades and seen quite a few interesting things over the years. He even held a couple defeated super villains until the authorities could take them away. Both Mr. Stark and Iron Man knew his name and had spoken to him on a few occasions. He had a lot of pride in his company.

But Stanley had to admit he was a bit slower than he used to be. And that his eyesight wasn't as sharp. And that his wife Barbara had also been bugging him to get a hearing aid for months now. And of course, the rest of the crew loved calling him the Old Man. If he alerted everyone and it turned out to be nothing, he'd never live it down.

He sighed again, fiddled with the top button of his Stark Enterprises uniform (which was rather snug around the middle these days), and turned his attention back to the television. Just six more months . . .

Right outside the window, a vaguely man-sized ripple in the air moved slowly and carefully away. It got within 10 feet of the ground and dropped neatly into the shadows.

_Note to self_, the young man thought, _Figure out how to mute noise better._

- - - - -

Iron Man's world was one of fire and pain.

The two commingled freely in his mind as the heat from the surrounding inferno began to work its way deep inside him. His whole body felt like it was cooking within a human shaped frying pan. At the same time, both of his arms were slowly being ground to powder. The suit's personal force field had crumpled and now the armor's physical integrity was about to collapse.

_It's now or never, Stark._

"Computer," he gasped through nearly crushed ribs, "Sequence: Flash-Bang!"

Immediately, the armor's Unibeam ignited. A massive light beam flashed out nearly 180 degrees, coating the entire upper torso of the Juggernaut in almost pure white radiance. Polarized barriers protected his own eyesight, but his foe wasn't as lucky. One second later, the sonics kicked in, their piercing wail hundreds of times more powerful than an aircraft turbine at full throttle. The small percentage that leaked through the helmet was enough to make Iron Man flinch in pain.

The effect on Juggernaut was immediate. The instant he realized he was blind, his ears nearly exploded with sound. He dropped the Avenger in a vain attempt to cover his ears, discovered his own helmet prevented him from doing so, and roared in frustration. Now deprived of both senses, the massive man lurched forward, staggered and confused.

_Got to hit him before he can recover. He's not really hurt, just disoriented._

Iron Man rerouted most of his systems into the muscular enhancers, re-established his sense of direction and hit Juggernaut with everything he had. _Here's hoping he has to be concentrating for that damn force field to work completely . . ._

One resounding CLANG later, and the Juggernaut's body flew up in a graceful arc. He tumbled through the air helplessly for several seconds. His vision and hearing were just beginning to clear when he hit the water with a tremendous splash.

Cain Marko sank into the depths even more confused. Where did all this water come from? He wasn't worried about drowning. He didn't have to breathe when he didn't want to. And now that he'd had a few moments to think about it, he didn't appear to be injured either. His ears were still ringing a little, but he knew he wasn't deafened. His vision wouldn't be a problem either.

Iron Man had tricked him. He couldn't really hurt him so he made him _think_ he had been hurt. Took advantage of his break in concentration and knocked him somewhere. Juggernaut smiled. It didn't matter. It only delayed the inevitable. He'd climb out here as soon as he hit bottom and he'd be ready this time.

Nothing Iron Man could do would stop him.

- - - - -

Iron Man staggered out of the gasoline fire, steaming armor leaving molten foot prints in the asphalt. As the surrounding civilians began to crowd around, he gestured for them to stay back. "Don't get too close! I'll burn you!"

_Got to lose some of this heat and give the refractory coating a chance to catch up._

He looked long and hard at the backed up traffic and spotted an ice cream truck. _Any port in a storm._

He walked towards the truck, ripped open the rear door and climbed inside. The refrigerated vehicle sank a few inches under his weight. Almost immediately, several hundred dollars worth of ice cream became mush and the entire rear of the vehicle was lost in steam. Iron Man sat down wearily, as if a patron at a sauna.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing to my product?" the driver shouted from the cab, recoiling from the steam that began to filter forward to his seat.

"Stark Enterprises will replace the entire contents, sir. At full retail price."

Tony Stark filtered out the man's reply, mentally running diagnostics.

_I need two minutes to get everything back up and running. I can convert some of this excess heat into energy and reboot the propulsion system at the same time. In the meantime . . ._

"Computer, connect me with the Hoover Dam Administration."

Five seconds later, "We're here, Iron Man."

"The package has arrived, gentlemen. Do you have the equipment I require?"

"Yes, although we're not sure what you are going to do with it."

"With any luck, gentlemen, I'll be saving the day."

- - - - -

The young man was careful not to look down.

Although he had done this type of thing a couple times before during test runs of his equipment, he was not a great fan of heights. The logical part of his mind reminded him that the electro-static charge he was generating could hold nearly two tons, but his base instincts were screaming that he was climbing up a sheer wall over 20 stories high and could fall to his death at any second.

He wondered if Spider-man ever had such thoughts.

_Maybe I'll get a chance to ask him someday . . ._

A few minutes later and he reached the top of the administration building.

Now he had to make a choice.

He was certain Stark's penthouse would have some heavy duty surveillance and probably serious defense mechanisms. So far, the stealth field had held up well. He hadn't been detected as far as he knew. He was monitoring radio traffic on the SE band, and unless the transmissions were encrypted (a possibility he had to consider), everything appeared to be normal. He felt a rush of adrenalin when he contemplated a possible confrontation with Iron Man.

Now _that_ would be a field test.

So did he attempt to enter the penthouse directly? Or should he enter the building first and then work his way up?

He sighed, leaning halfway over the edge, careful not to touch the roof itself.

Nearby, a couple seagulls perched on the ledge cocked their heads in his direction, determined that he was incredibly unnatural, and took off into the dark sky.

Too bad he had never figured out the whole boot jet thing, the young man thought as he watched them disappear. Flying would have made things a heck of a lot easier.

- - - - -

Iron Man stood on top of the Hoover Dam, battered armor gleaming as it bathed in illumination from several spotlights.

He was alone.

Traffic had long since been diverted from the dam and all the tourists evacuated.

Somewhere deep inside the massive manmade structure, a skeleton crew of technicians were standing by to do their part in this rather dangerous gambit. Most of them thought the Golden Avenger was crazy, and one had actually voiced his concerns to the armored hero. It just didn't seem possible that what had been proposed would actually work. But Iron Man had invoked Avenger emergency priority one status, and that meant they had to do everything in their power to assist him. The bean counters would figure out the red tape later, and, there was going to be a _ton_ of it.

In the meantime, all they had to do was wait.

It didn't take long.

Pressure sensors picked up something climbing the side of the dam underneath the water. Something man-sized, but somehow capable of exerting enough force on the concrete to trigger warning lights on the various consoles in the Hoover Dam's control room. They all knew what it was.

It was up to Iron Man now.

- - - - -

Juggernaut climbed steadily up the side of the dam, fingers gouging out handhold after handhold, while his booted feet did the same below him. Water dripped off his armor and some lapped lazily around his neck, trapped inside his helmet by the seal that connected it to his shoulders. He'd take care of that annoyance just as soon as he recycled a certain walking tin can . . .

He was pissed off now. Where did this high and mighty hero get the idea that he could possibly stand a chance against him? Him, the unstoppable Juggernaut, who had taken on the Hulk, Thor, and entire teams of X-men! Time to show Iron Man the true meaning of power.

_I'll start by ripping his helmet right off him, and maybe take his head with it._

These dark thoughts continued until he finally reached the top of the dam.

Cain Marko folded a reinforced guard rail out of his way like a piece of paper and climbed up. Less than 50 feet away, Iron Man faced him, lit up like a Christmas tree in the middle of several spotlights.

He'd seen better days, looking half melted in spots, with large dents in a several places. In addition, all kinds of cables and wiring were connected to him haphazardly, kind of like one of those poor bastards you'd find in intensive care.

Still, there was a kind of defiance in the Avenger's stance that irritated him.

"Ha!" Juggernaut sneered, "You look like crap!"

"Last chance to surrender, Juggernaut."

"Are you kidding? Look at you! I've seen better metal in scrap yards!"

"Why don't you save yourself more trouble and call it quits?"

"Call it quits? I haven't even broken a sweat yet," Juggernaut took a step forward, "I'm ready for you now."

Another step. "No more tricks."

Juggernaut charged.

_Here goes everything._

Tony Stark opened his com-link, "Transfer all power to me now!"

"Circuits opened. Transfer commencing," came the crisp reply.

Seventeen turbines whined at full speed, pouring over 2 million kilowatts of power into his systems. In addition, electrical grids from Southern California, Nevada, and Arizona went dark as their power came coursing back to the dam which had generated it in the first place and poured into Iron Man's muscle enhancers.

The Vegas strip darkened.

Los Angeles went black.

Lights dimmed as far away as Phoenix.

Ripples from this power drain flowed across the country as electrical technicians from Seattle to Dallas sat up and took notice.

The armor redlined almost immediately, and every warning light he had installed flashed brightly and burned out an instant later. There was no way he could hold this amount of energy without killing himself in mere seconds.

Fortunately, he had a place to send it.

Juggernaut was almost on him now, giant fist raised, ready to smash him into metal-covered pulp.

Iron Man brought his right hand back, made a fist, and delivered a massive upper cut with his whole body, just as his foe loomed over him.

The collision was titanic.

Concrete cracked all along the surface of the dam.

Windows blew out miles away.

The sonic boom was heard as far Vegas, Laughlin and Kingman, Arizona. The technicians protected within the dam would complain of hearing loss for days.

Others would talk about the reverse meteorite. Some kind of object burning upwards through the sky, getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared. NASA would pick it up shortly and alert the Defense Department about a clandestine launch of some kind. The DOD would raise the threat level to yellow until they heard the real story, which was almost unbelievable.

Tony Stark, on the other hand, as the architect of this strange phenomenon, was furiously ripping away the excess cables and shutting down every system he could. There weren't too many of these, as most had shorted out. In fact, the armor was mostly dead weight now.

_Probably beyond repair, _he mused.

He sighed, ripping the last cable out. The entire area was pitch black, as he had even siphoned the back-up generators. That should change within a minute or two, as the technicians worked furiously to restore normal flow. The state power grids should return back to normal by dawn.

Tony sat down wearily and pondered the clear night sky. The stars shone brightly now that they had no ground based illumination to compete with.

He smiled.

Juggernaut was getting a nice view of them right now.

His orbit would decay eventually, but probably not for a few months. Plenty of time to figure out what to do with him. He doubted the Vault or anywhere else on Earth could hold him, but Professor Xavier's team must have found some way to neutralize him in the past. He'd have to contact the X-men and ask for suggestions.

But that was a problem for another day.

- - - - -

The sun had just set, painting the ocean blood red before darkening into shadow.

Justin Hammer ignored the spectacular view from his villa. His guests had just left, contour lines from their vehicle fading into the deepening black of the new night sky. He absently swirled his glass of wine, while smoke from his cigarette trickled upward and was lost in the air of his open balcony.

Negotiations had gone well. The alliance was mutually beneficial; an agreement between equal parties. Whoever was in charge of AIM these days was trying new methodologies. Of course, he would keep his guard up. AIM, although not the power it was even a decade ago, was quite formidable and generally not to be crossed. Their technology was state of the art and, in some cases, well beyond. However, they were considered a terrorist organization and under constant attack from Interpol, SHIELD, and various hero groups.

His enterprises, on the other hand, bore the trappings of legitimacy. His dealings with the super-human community were vast and yet he had never been so much as indicted. Fully one third of the various technology-based villains and several dozen others were on his payroll either directly or indirectly. Income from these underground assets was close to 3 billion in the last fiscal year alone. Combine this with his legitimate activities, and Justin Hammer was one of the top power brokers in the world.

Both he and AIM brought something to the table the other needed. His network of operatives and corporations combined with AIM's technology and scientific resources would be practically unstoppable. Patents of AIM concepts by Hammer Industries would line his pockets while providing AIM much needed income for their own clandestine efforts. His elite operatives, equipped with AIM's latest tech, would protect both of them from unwanted super-human attention.

It was perfect, except for one problem.

Stark, and by extension, Iron Man.

Anthony was too keen for his own good. He would recognize the new technologies and figure out where they ultimately came from. The Armor Wars had proved that. Soon Iron Man, SHIELD, and the Avengers would be involved. Given enough time, he could bring it all down.

But not if _they_ brought him down first.

Hammer smiled, and lifted his glass in a mock toast.

_Ah Anthony, I will miss our little games._

He casually tipped the glass, letting wine spill slowly into the dark jungle below.

_But all games eventually must end._

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

NEXT ISSUE: The identity of the mysterious teen revealed! Do not miss it!


	4. Ties That Bind

"Thanks for the lift, Cap," a very weary Tony Stark said as he stepped down out of the vehicle and squinted. The sun was now climbing above the horizon, having passed through dawn about an hour ago, and the fiery orb was becoming quite bright. Normally, the polarized lenses of his helmet would automatically filter out excess sunlight.

If they had been working at the moment.

_Number 67 on the repair list. _

He sighed.

"Not a problem, Tony, although I did find the request a bit unusual."

"Well, I figured a Quinjet would be the quickest way back to New York, considering my armor's pretty much toast." In fact, it would be very nice to take the suit off and have a nice shower. Dragging around the excess weight was starting to wear on him. Of course, if Stark Enterprises had had a branch office in Vegas, none of this would have been a problem.

Captain America smiled, "Going ten rounds with the Juggernaut will do that to you. Remember, even Thor had trouble with him." Cap started back into the Quinjet. "Take it easy, Tony. And remember you're welcome back on the team anytime you want. You've been on Reserve Status long enough, don't you think?"

"I'll keep that in mind, Avenger."

The noise of the Quinjet taking off was uncomfortably loud without the armor's sound buffers kicking in to mute the noise.

And now we have number 68.

He keyed in his code, allowed the door to conduct a quick retinal scan, and dragged himself into the roof access on the Stark Enterprises Administration Building. A long shower, a short nap, a quick scan of the status reports Mrs. Arbogast had so diligently prepared for him last night, and he'd see what systems he could get up and running before he decided what to do for the evening.

After all, he was still technically on vacation. . . .

- - - - -

The young man awoke with a start.

For the first time since he'd successfully bypassed Stark security to gain entry to the penthouse (a process that had taken three times longer than he had thought), there had been a noise. He quickly checked his onboard chronometer. It was 8:37 AM.

_Crap, I've been asleep for almost 3 hours!_

He realized he was still stuck on the ceiling and began to crawl carefully along it towards the source of the sound. His earlier attempt to locate his target had been unsuccessful, and he'd decided to wait for his quarry to return. He'd spent quite a bit of time exploring the sprawling living quarters and was amazed by the sheer luxury of the premises. The teen had grown up in comfort, but Stark was clearly in a different league.

Somehow, this bothered him more than he thought it would.

_Well, maybe I'll finally be able to get some answers._

- - - - -

Tony Stark entered the Vault and closed the door behind him. It locked itself automatically with a satisfying CA-CHINK. Beyond the entrance, a camouflaging wall of oak paneling (complete with lighting fixtures and a picture of an medieval knight on horseback) slid into place.

Automatic lighting came to life, illuminating a comfortable working area filled with diagnostic equipment, computers, a repair bay, and a gallery of former Iron Man armors along the back wall. While his main lab was located in a secret sub-basement beneath this very building, he would be able determine exactly what could be repaired and what would have to be completely replaced easily enough from here.

Besides, he just wanted to get the damn thing off of him right now.

As he stripped down, he glanced over at the gallery. Replicas of his Golden, Classic Red and Gold, Space, and Stealth suits stood along side functional versions of the Silver Sphinx and Deep Sea armors. He supposed he could cannibalize components from the latter two to jumpstart the repair process, but first he had to figure out just how bad things were.

Standing in his underwear, Tony Stark hooked the helmet of his armor to the diagnostic computer and began the scanning program. He slumped into a chair and sighed. Various parts of his body ached from the bumps and bruises courtesy of the Juggernaut, but nothing appeared to be too serious. Nothing a two-hour massage wouldn't cure.

_Say, now that's a good idea_. . .

He was just about to have his computer order a special house call from one of New York City's finest masseuses when the alert sounded.

Someone was trying to break into the Vault.

- - - - -

_STUPID! STUPID! STUPID!_

He should have checked everything more thoroughly, but he had been too afraid that he'd set off an alarm somehow. Now someone (probably the same person he was looking for) had just walked right in and gone into some kind of secret room. He'd just caught a glimpse of a fake wall closing as he entered the entertainment area. After spending a few minutes trying to determine a course of action, he'd impulsively forced the wall open, hoping to catch the person off guard.

Instead he was staring at a huge vault made of some kind of metal alloy that looked like it would take him half the day to break through. He then noticed a little blinking red light at its top, connected to some kind of hi-tech security camera. He launched an electro-shuriken at it and the charged missile destroyed the machine easily. This forced him to drop the stealth field, and he stood revealed for the first time.

Almost instantly several metallic tentacles emerged from the vault door and attempted to restrain him, as about a half dozen alarms screamed to life. The young man flipped gracefully backwards out of their immediate reach, unsheathed his primary weapon, and sliced through two tentacles as he landed on what was probably a very expensive leather couch.

The four remaining security arms realigned themselves for his new position, while two guns of some kind popped out of their ceiling housings and fired.

He managed to deflect the first with his blade, but the second hit him in the leg. It was a force blast of some kind (probably a low level repulsor his intellect offered helpfully) that spun him wildly and made him fall from the splendid couch and crash through an equally luxurious coffee table, complete with a jade and gold statue that probably had cost more than his mother's car.

He barely had time to roll over when two tentacles clamped down on both his arms. _Gee, this is going well . . ._

He redirected power to his muscle enhancers and pulled.

After about five seconds of straining, he was rewarded with a metallic whining sound as both tentacles were ripped from their base. He jumped straight up about six feet to avoid a second barrage of replusors, and sent a double shot of electro-shurikens at the guns, removing them from play. A carefully timed swipe with the sword on the way down finished the last tentacles off.

"Now that's what I call a field test!" he shouted triumphantly, adrenalin pumping. He leg felt a little sore, but the armor had held up!

He realized a few seconds later that the vault had opened.

"Ready for the main event?" Iron Man asked, as twin repulsor rays blew the young man across the room and through the biggest television he had ever seen.

- - - - -

Tony felt a little bad about blindsiding his foe, but here he was in outdated armor, having been put through the wringer not 12 hours ago, and watching some unknown intruder damage his security system and several of his personal possessions. Although he was sure Cap would not have approved, that sucker punch had felt good.

"I have to warn you, buddy, I'm not in a very good mood," Iron Man stepped forward, letting the vault cycle shut behind him. He got his first really good look at his opponent as he extricated himself from the remains of the plasma TV. The armor was form-fitting, primarily white with blue trim. The helmet had nothing but a thin visor on it, while the wrists had some sort of weapon deployment components on them. There was also some kind of compact backpack unit, possibly the power source. The sword was the most interesting. Made of some kind of metal, it was etched with special circuitry whose purpose could only be guessed at. All in all, his foe could be summarized as some kind of hi-tech ninja.

"Why don't we spare Mr. Stark's home any further damage and have you give yourself up? You are clearly outmatched."

His opponent crouched defensively, sword in parrying position. "Normally, I'd agree, but I can't help but notice you're wearing the Silver Sphinx armor. What's that? Three years out of date?"

The voice was muffled, but didn't have any electronic scrambling to alter it. His foe sounded . . . young.

"It'll be enough to handle you---er, I don't suppose you have a name?"

"Call me Surge," and with that his opponent faded from view.

Iron Man immediately activated his sensors and was disappointed to find that they didn't immediately pick up his target. _Three years _is_ a lifetime for cutting edge technology, but I should still be able to find something._

Suddenly Surge appeared to his left, striking with his sword. The force of the attack drove the Avenger back against the vault, as the weapon slashed across his chest, leaving an arc of sparks but nothing more than cosmetic damage.

He quickly tried to grab his opponent before he faded away again, but Surge was too quick. _Must not be able to maintain the field while using power for other systems such as muscle enhancement, _Iron Man thought, _Time to slow him down a bit._

One mental command later and eight Iron Men stood were one had before.

_The holograms should buy me a little time while I lock onto his energy signature. I don't care how advanced his cloaking tech is, it has to give off something I can find. Heat? Vibration? Electrons?_

Surge appeared once more, slashed through a faux Iron Man and disappeared, "Nice trick. Won't help you for long!"

"Why did you break in here, Surge? Are you one of Hammer's crew?" Iron Man carefully moved towards the exit as his armor's sensor array continued to cycle through the electro-magnetic spectrum, "Or are you just another loser trying to make a name for yourself?" Another hologram was disrupted, this time by some kind of thrown bladed weapon. "Or maybe ROXXON is a bit peeved at the way Stark Enterprises kicked their ass in the last quarter?"

"This doesn't concern you, Iron Man. I only want Stark."

Another duplicate was decapitated as Surge uncloaked and disappeared.

Iron Man reached the door. _At least I can stop worrying about having my stuff destroyed._ He started to open it and was immediately knocked through as Surge kicked him hard in the midsection, appearing an instant before he connected.

"Ha! Holograms don't use doors!"

Iron Man landed about 20 away, in the middle of his pool area. As he stood up from a ruined deck chair, Surge had disappeared again. He let the remaining holograms vanish, knowing his foe had centered on him.

"Nice hit. You won't get another." The E-M scan was complete, and the results were less than thrilling. Still, Stark was pretty sure he had a solution, "What do you want with Stark? There are legitimate ways to get in touch with him, you know."

"Legitimate?" Surge laughed, "Now, _that's _funny."

Iron Man didn't get the joke, and he didn't waste any time trying. Surge had reconfirmed his suspicions.

"Surge? Can you hear me?"

"What? Of course, I can hear you!"

"Good."

Tony Stark activated the sonics.

- - - - -

Surge's head exploded in pain.

The loudest noise he had ever heard in his life was pounding him right between the ears. He tumbled from the table he had been crouched on and crashed into several chairs. The sound just kept coming. He got to his knees, trying to cover his ears, but it barely made a difference. It was starting to get hard to think, much less fight.

"ARRRRGHHHHH! TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF!" he gasped.

Something strong clamped down on his shoulder and lifted him up.

"Gladly."

The young man found himself staring into the face of Iron Man.

"Why don't you cool off?" the Avenger said casually, as one fist pulled back.

The blow that followed both knocked the wind out of Surge and sent him flying in a graceful arc that ended unceremoniously in the penthouse's large pool.

The stealth field sparked and fizzled as he sank. It had never done well in the rain, but full immersion was well beyond its tolerance. He would have loved to shut it down, but he was more concerned with breathing since he had never gotten around to installing an air supply. He pushed himself off the floor of the pool with his legs, shot out of the water like a dolphin, and landed in a heap near the poolside bar and grill.

His head throbbed and now his stomach wasn't feeling too great either. He shut down the stealth field before it drained any more power from his reserves and climbed slowly to his feet. This was apparently the wrong thing to do as the sudden urge to vomit overwhelmed him.

He barely got his helmet off in time.

When he was done retching, he realized Iron Man was standing over him.

- - - - -

I don't BELIEVE this! He's just a KID! Geeze, I don't think he's old enough to drive, much less be a hi-tech super-villain.

Iron Man composed himself and spoke, "Ready to give up?"

The kid wiped his mouth and sat back. His eyes narrowed in defiance and then suddenly welled up with tears, "I can't give up. I have to see Tony Stark!"

The boy scrambled to his feet and assumed a fighting stance, his blue eyes a tempest of anger, sadness, and pain.

"Listen, you're obviously upset about something," Tony said soothingly, backing up a step to give the teen some space, "Perhaps I can help."

"No! It has to be Tony Stark!"

"But why? I have resources of my own I can call upon—"

"No! I have to talk to him!"

"I don't understand. What is so important that you have to talk to Mr. Stark?"

The young man's shoulders slumped in defeat, and he hung his head.

"He's my father."

NEXT ISSUE: Has Tony's Playboy lifestyle finally caught up to him, or is something more sinister at work? And if Surge is Tony's son, who the heck is the mother?


	5. Sins of the Father

"Supreme Scientist, I have my initial report."

The air in the chamber was artificially dry and pure. Not even a micron's worth of dust or bacteria had infiltrated the vast room's atmosphere. Number 17 always ended up with chapped lips whenever she came here, but fortunately her omnipresent helmet concealed this fact. Besides, minor physical discomfort was no sacrifice when it allowed one to be in the presence of the intellectual commander of Advanced Idea Mechanics.

"Continue, Number 17."

As always, the Supreme Scientist remained in shadow, although her suit's scanners could make out his shape reclined in the command chair at the far end of the rectangular chamber. Dozens of video screens covered each of the longer walls, one side monitoring most of the world's satellite communications, while the other scanned various sites within their global headquarters.

To Number 17 it seemed impossible to make any sense out of so many simultaneous images, but that was why he was in command and she was merely a newly elevated Prime. In fact, she owed her new station to this recent Supreme Scientist. When he assumed command only months ago, he had overturned the old order (eliminating most of the Top Ten in the process) and created a new class: the Primes. Cherry-picking the best and brightest of the next generation while consolidating his own power, he reshuffled the numerical order. Now the prime numbers ruled. She actually outranked Number Four, much to that old man's chagrin. Not that he'd ever dare complain openly.

Not after what happened to Number Six . . .

She shivered at the vision which came unbidden to her mind's eye.

"Number 17," the Supreme Scientist said, a hint of impatience in his voice.

She came back to the matter at hand. "Yes, sir. Justin Hammer supplied the specifications we requested and the Combat Lab has successfully duplicated the mechanisms. We can begin mass production within a week."

"Tell the Manufacturing Division that they have 48 hours."

Number 17 knew better than to argue. "Of course, sir. I'll alert them immediately to begin the reconfiguring of the equipment."

"Continue."

"Mr. Hammer agreed to act as an intermediary to supply the individual you requested. He will cover his fee in return for the patent on the anti-gravity module we developed last year." She paused, and then decided to show some initiative, "He appeared to be quite pleased with the arrangement. That patent will probably be worth billions once they engineer a domestic vehicle that can incorporate the technology cost- effectively."

She paused, waiting for a response.

Silence lingered for several uncomfortable seconds.

"Are you questioning me, Number 17?"

It was asked in the same polite manner one might use to request the time from a passerby on the street, but underneath that civil veneer lurked danger. Suddenly, Number Six's corpse flashed in her mind again, beckoning with those horrible charred fingers, while a leaden knot tightened in the pit of her stomach.

"Of course not, sir," she swallowed hard, her mouth impossibly dry now, "I merely wish to understand. I-I realize that AIM will-will—"

The Supreme Scientist got up slowly and began to approach, "You realize that AIM will what, my dear?"

Number 17 took a step backward without thinking.

"I realize that we will of course get the better of any arrangement . . . "

The Supreme Scientist slowly came out of the shadows. He wasn't wearing his helmet. "However?" he asked, helpfully.

"I-I just don't see how, at the moment." She finished rather abruptly. She would have never imagined the Supreme Scientist looked like this. She had seen that face somewhere before. . . somewhere in the Archives. . .

The man stopped a few feet away.

"Ah, yes. An honest answer, Number 17. And an honest answer, deserves an honest response."

Suddenly her helmet unsealed and floated above her head. She involuntarily looked up at it hanging there, and gasped as he casually reached out and cupped her chin.

His grip was incredibly strong.

"You see, Number 17, AIM is irrelevant. _Iron Man_ is all that matters."

Something flashed and Number 17 felt a sharp pain. She tried to scream, but the electricity that flowed into her seized all of her muscles in violent contractions. The Supreme Scientist watched her corpse jump and shudder in his grasp for several seconds before he let it drop unceremoniously to the floor.

He sighed and walked back to his chair.

"Western women never seem to know their place."

-----

"He's my father."

The words echoed in Tony Stark's mind.

Three simple words.

And yet, they could change everything in his life.

"That's . . . that just not possible," he said, as much to himself as to the young man standing furiously before him. The early day's sun shined clearly on the teen-ager's face. A face whose features now seemed familiar to him. A face with similar eyes, hair, and other structures. He suddenly saw a lot of his own visage there, staring back at him.

"How would you know?" Surge spat back at him, visibly shaking with anger, "You're just a glorified bodyguard! Hell, you're not even the original Iron Man! You're just the latest in a line of suckers who does my high-and-mighty father's dirty work because he's too chicken shit to do his own!"

_Such anger. Could he truly be---No! _

Iron Man shook his head.

_Get control of yourself, Tony. This kid has to be at least 15! That's before Bethany. Even before Whitney. There's just no way!_

"Listen, as Mr. Stark's bodyguard, I know everything about him. His only living relative is his cousin. Mr. Stark has never had a son. He's never even been married."

"Yeah, well, that is the textbook definition of a _bastard_, now isn't it?" Surge's face flushed a shade darker as he drew his sword once again.

Suddenly, the circuitry on the blade flashed and the weapon was enveloped in an aura of pure energy. "I call this my Energy Sheath, Iron Man. It is my most powerful weapon. Now I'm sure your modern armor could hold up against it, but are you willing to take the risk with the retro version you're wearing now?"

Iron Man's scanners measured a significant energy output coming from the blade. There was a decent chance the boy could make good on his threat.

"Listen, I don't think we need to fight anymore. You are obviously confused, but I don't think you really want to hurt me. You could have activated that blade when we were fighting inside."

"Then take me to Tony Stark."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. . ."

Surge tensed, face determined.

". . . yet. Stand down, and let's talk."

Surge kept his combat position, face uncertain. Their two shadows slowly shrank as the sun continued its inexorable climb into the bright blue sky.

"Please, Surge, be reasonable. You trespass on Stark International property. You break into Mr. Stark's personal penthouse. You attack me and then make an incredible accusation. Would you let me see Mr. Stark if our positions were reversed?"

Surge seemed to ponder for a moment. Then he powered down his sword and sheathed it in a single smooth motion. "Well, when you put it like that . . ."

-----

He hadn't meant to go crazy like that. In fact, he was pretty embarrassed now that he had had a few minutes to regain his composure. _Still acting like a kid, even with all this intellect. How pathetic. Iron Man must think I'm just some whining, angst-filled adolescent. _

Despite his harsh words, Surge really admired Iron Man. The Golden Avenger was the inspiration for his own battle suit, after all. Sitting here, at a massive oak dining table, talking with his idol, this was a dream come true. _If only he believed me . . . _

"You have some impressive gear, Surge. Where did you get it?"

"I made it," he said rather proudly.

"Really? But these materials and circuitry aren't cheap. How did you afford them?" Iron Man leaned back in his chair, appraising him, "I mean, you seem a bit young to have a full-time job."

Surge smiled, in spite of himself, "Yeah, well, school's the most important thing right now. I just started my Master's at ESU a few months ago. Grad school can be a little tough, but I can handle—Hey! You're just trying to get information about me!"

"Of course," Iron Man said hastily, "I can't let Mr. Stark see you without insuring that you pose no threat. The man has many enemies, after all."

"Yeah," Surge said bitterly, "Like the Titanium Man."

_Someday, he will pay for what he did . . . _

-----

_Titanium Man? What does _he_ have to do with anything?_

Iron Man watched the young man for a moment, once again struck by the physical similarity to himself. _The boy obviously harbors strong feelings about him._

_But why?_

"Surge," He said carefully, "What is your real name? Who is your mother?"

The young man brought his attention back to him.

"I'm sorry, but that information is for Mr. Stark only."

Tony sighed. _This is getting us no where._

"Then I'm afraid we'll have to—"

"Test me."

"Pardon me?"

"I said, test me. Blood, DNA, whatever. I'm sure the proper technology to do it is somewhere nearby. Should only take a few hours, right?"

Tony was taken aback. Why would a fake offer to be tested? _Unless. ._ .

"Well, what do you say?" Surge stood up, grabbed his hair and pulled out a few threads. He also dabbed a napkin at one of the cuts he received in battle, staining the cloth red. "Here. You want saliva?" He spit in an empty cup and placed it in front of Iron Man as well.

"So, do we have a deal? Test all this stuff, and if it comes out a match, you'll let me talk to Tony Stark."

"I don't know, Surge."

"What? What is it? Do you want more? Show me a bathroom then, and I'll---"

"That won't be necessary."

"Then, what? Are you afraid I'm right? Maybe Stark isn't the poster boy you think he is, huh?"

The insult hurt. Tony sighed. "Okay, I'll run the tests."

He got up and headed toward the vault, carrying the samples. He turned just before he entered the ruined doorway, "Stay here. Get something to eat from the kitchen. I'm going to carefully and thoroughly test all three of these specimens. Then I'm going to double check them. This could take several hours."

The young man stared at him.

"Take as much time as you need, Iron Man." Surge smiled grimly, "I already know what the results will be."

-----

The satellite image was crystal clear, despite the fact it was being relayed through no less than eight stations before reaching its targeted audience. The encryption process caused a slight delay in communication, but it was a necessary annoyance in order to insure SHIELD, INTERPOL, or any other number of international authorities couldn't eavesdrop on the conversation.

Justin Hammer always preferred to keep this type of business transaction private.

"Make this worth my time, Hammer." The man on the screen stated abruptly.

If such a lack in manners irritated the multi-billionaire, he did not show it.

"Ah, my boy!" He laughed lightly, "Straight to the point, as always. Just one more delightful reason I find myself so generous with you."b

"If you are asking me to join that ridiculous palace guard of yours again, forget it. I don't like staying in one place too long, no matter how well it pays."

"Of course not! I still hope you'll come to your senses some day, dear lad, but I have something else in mind. You _are_ still willing to accept contract work, I assume?"

"I won't have room for more students until the next fiscal year, Hammer."

"You misunderstand me, sir," Hammer said clearly and carefully, a hint of steel entering his voice as he began to weary of this exchange. "I wish to hire you, personally, to take care of a particular problem of mine. A superhuman type problem."

"Why? You've got a dozen guys to handle those types of problems."

"While my assets are considerable, a good businessman knows when outside specialists are required. You have the . . . talents . . . I require for this particular task."

The man on the screen smiled.

"Well, they don't call me the Taskmaster for nothing,"

-----

Tony Stark had run the tests.

Three times.

While the blood type wouldn't have necessarily been conclusive, the genetic markers were. The boy shared his DNA.

He wasn't a clone.

He wasn't an LMD.

He wasn't from an alternate timeline.

He knew this because while he was running the tests, he had trained every possible piece of scanning equipment on Surge without his knowledge. The entire penthouse was imbedded with the best technological sensors he could devise. His various experiences both as Iron Man and an Avenger had enabled him to learn how to detect a variety of warning signs. The boy didn't give off any chronal energies. His cells showed none of the indications of accelerated clone growth. Life Model Decoys were not organic.

He couldn't help but feel a little guilty now, but deception was, all too often, a common tactic of his enemies. Midas, Stane, Hammer. The list went on and on.

He was so used to having his guard up that he wasn't sure he could let it down.

But he had to try.

That was his son out there.

-----

He found Surge sleeping on a couch, the remains of lunch on a nearby table. Apparently he had been looking at photo albums. Iron Man paused to see what page the boy had been looking at before he fell asleep.

And froze.

They were pictures of him and a smiling, beautiful young woman.

Someone who had meant a great deal to him before her untimely death.

At the hands of the Titanium Man.

_That was over fifteen years ago . . ._

"Janice Cord." He whispered, not realizing he spoke those words aloud.

"Now do you believe me?"

Startled out of his thoughts, Iron Man saw that Surge was awake.

"Word to the wise," Surge said, "That armor makes it pretty hard to sneak up on people. Even with the plush carpeting." The boy smiled.

"We have to talk." Iron Man replied.

Surge sighed, crossed his arms and slumped back into the leather couch, "Look, we had a deal. Both of us know what the test results concluded. I am Tony Stark's son, and I'm not going to answer any more questions until I speak to him."

For several minutes, silence reigned, as the two stared at each other.

Then Iron Man entered a cybernetic code, brought his hands up, and removed his helmet.

Tony Stark stared down at the shocked expression of his son.

"Like I said, we have to talk."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

NEXT ISSUE: Tony Stark is a father. But how did it happen and why was it kept a secret from him? Plus: Hammer's first strike at Iron Man might be the only one he needs! Featuring Taskmaster as you've never seen him before.


	6. The Apple Doesn't Fall Far

"I hate Mondays."

"You do?"

"Doesn't everybody?"

The large man in the course gray rhino suit leaned back against the reinforced chair of the aircraft, causing it to protest slightly. He tilted his head in contemplation, sending the horn atop his head dangerously close to spearing a nearby overhead compartment.

"I don't know," he allowed, "I kind of like Mondays."

"Really?" the Taskmaster replied, checking the new equipment for about the twentieth time. He was still getting used to the extra weight of the new components of his costume_. They had better be worth the trouble_. "How so? Start of another workweek doesn't seem to be a cause for celebration. Maybe you don't make the most of your weekends."

The Rhino snorted and sat forward, bringing another moan of distress from his seat, "Do you have any idea how much booze it takes to even get me buzzed, much less drunk?"

Taskmaster shrugged, "I don't know, a lot?"

"Two!"

"What, two bottles? That's not so bad."

"Two _cases_!"

The man in the caped uniform with the bristling weapons and the hooded skull mask whistled, "Okay, but that doesn't explain why Mondays are so great."

The Rhino smiled and nodded wisely, nearing piercing a reading light as he did so, "Another Monday means another pay period, and another pay period means another paycheck."

The Taskmaster looked back at his ally incredulously. "He's got you on the books?"

"Of course. I only get a pay stub though, 'cause I got direct deposit."

Now it was Taskmaster's turn to contemplate.

"How much do you get, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Sorry, I've got one of those nondisclosure deals. If you think Mr. Hammer's bad, you should see his lawyers!"

The Rhino laughed, and the Taskmaster began to chuckle as his mind conjured up an image of some Harvard Law shyster attempting to intimidate a superhuman who could bench press an entire law school.

"But seriously," the large man continued, "it's a good deal. I've got benefits like medical, 401K, sick days, housing, a company car, vacation, and of course, get-out-of-jail insurance. I've never spent more than a day or two inside before bail's been posted."

"You've got a 401K?" Hammer's benefits package surpassed the one he gave his own men. But then again, nothing beat being your own boss. Still, he might have to give Hammer a second look next time the Avengers or some other do-gooders took down one of his schools. The Earth's Mightiest Assholes had him in the red two of the past four fiscal years.

The Rhino grinned and opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted.

"Gentlemen," a calm voice stated over the intercom, "ETA to Long Island is 10 minutes. Prepare for insertion."

The Taskmaster was immediately on his feet. _Enough small talk, time to get to work._

He glanced at his companion, "You know the drill?"

"Yeah, yeah," the Rhino also stood up much to the relief of his chair and joined him in moving to the back of the aircraft. "Break a bunch of stuff and raise a ruckus until the golden boy arrives."

"Right, then back me up while I test drive all this new tech."

They positioned themselves properly for a quick exit and waited.

A few minutes passed and the Rhino spoke up.

"You ever throw down with Iron Man before?"

"Oh yeah," Taskmaster replied, a hint of steel in his tone, "The damn Avengers are always messing with my enterprise. How about you?"

"Once. He sucker punched me and played dirty."

The Taskmaster's eyes narrowed, as the cargo ramp began to open.

"Well, payback's a bitch, now, isn't it?"

--

Tony awoke with a start and then groaned. He hadn't slept well and he still felt a couple dull aches from his tussle with the Juggernaut. Going a few rounds with his son the next day hadn't helped, either.

_His son._

That was going to take some getting used to.

Oh well, at least he hadn't turned out to be a younger evil twin from another dimension. Bizarre things like that were distressingly common in his line of work.

He looked over at his clock. It read 8:17 AM.

_That's an odd time for the alarm to go off._

Then his entire penthouse vibrated again and he realized something was wrong.

"Open communications," he barked out, "Security code: Stark TOS-391963!"

"Voice recognition and code accepted," the computer replied and he jumped out of bed and wiped the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes, "How can I be of assistance, Mr. Stark?"

"Status report. Has there been a security breach?"

"There's a disturbance at the dockyards. Something has been throwing cargo containers into nearby buildings."

Tony sighed.

_It's going to be one of those weeks . ._ .

"Bring up the closest security cameras and patch me in to Vic."

Immediately the built-in wall plasma screen came to life, showing the Stark dockyards from a half dozen angles. He watched carefully while punching in the code by memory to open the emergency passage to the armory. The heavy metal door had just slid open when he finally caught a glimpse of the unorthodox pitcher.

Tony blinked.

_The Rhino? What the hell is the Rhino doing trashing my shipping containers?_

"I'm here, Mr. Stark."

Vic Martinelli's voice transmitted crisply throughout his master suite.

"Vic, tell me you've begun evacuating."

"Yes sir," his Head of Security replied, "And we've begun to cordon off the area."

"Any clue what he's after?"

"No sir, he just seems to be trashing stuff."

_There go my insurance premiums. . ._

"Okay, Iron Man is en route. Keep our people safe and do not engage unless you absolutely have to."

"Yes, sir." The annoyance of his Security Chief didn't register as Tony was in full sprint towards the armory.

A few seconds later, he stood in the middle of an adamantium alloy reinforced chamber, surrounded by over a dozen suits of armor, neatly displayed over two levels. Each Iron Man suit was surrounded by a transparent tube, keyed to open with his palm print and retina scan.

_Too bad the one I want still isn't up to specs._

Tony Stark surveyed his collection and had a burst of inspiration.

_I haven't taken that one out for a spin in a long time._

The clear tube began to recede into the floor as he touched his hand to the palm outline on the adjacent pillar.

_Just what I need to take out the Rhino . . . _

_--_

Aleksei had just broken a sweat when he began to get bored. Sure, charging through the towering stacks of shipping containers and watching them topple like giant dominos had been fun the first half dozen times, but by now he had knocked over most of the tall ones. He hefted another multi-ton steel box and drop kicked it into Long Island Sound for a change of pace.

He watched the container's huge splash for a few seconds and then looked around again. _Geeze, I figured he'd be here by now._

The Russian spied a docked transport freighter a few hundred yards away and shrugged. _Guess I'd better up the ante. . . ._

He casually smashed one end of the nearest shipping container into a rough spearhead shape and lifted it like a colossal javelin. He'd see how many shots it would take to sink the vessel. The tricky part would be hitting it just below the waterline . . .

The superhuman's train of thought was interrupted as the modified container suddenly left his grasp. Aleksei looked over his broad shoulder and immediately wished he hadn't.

He caught a glimpse of red and gold. _A lot_ of red and gold, in fact.

"Ever play golf, Rhino?" A familiar metallic voice asked.

"Wha--?"

His clever response was cut short as the biggest Iron Man he'd ever seen swung the mangled steel box and connected perfectly, sending him up and out over the water with the word "FORE!!" echoing in his ears.

--

Tony watched the large grey human hit the water with an impressive splash at least a half mile away.

_Well, that should give Vic enough time to finish clearing the piers. Now all I have to do is wait for the Rhino to surface and I'll beat him into unconsciousness. Should be a piece of cake._

_Afterall, I designed this bad boy to take down the Hulk._

Suddenly, he felt the armor shudder. Pressure sensors went off, turning his HUD into a reasonable facsimile of a Christmas tree. No really damage, but it was a bit disconcerting.

"Hey, Iron Man! You put on some weight or is this your Sumo armor?"

Tony knew that he had heard that voice before, but he couldn't place it.

_Too bad this suit doesn't have any voice recognition software._

He lumbered around looking for this new foe. The Hulkbuster armor was designed for brute force, and the sensor package left something to be desired.

More shuddering.

He realized that they were some kind of explosive projectiles and that their aim was perfect. Each one hitting joints and other potential weak spots, including his face plate. The transparent material protecting his eyes held, but he was amazed to see the amount of shrapnel that would have destroyed his vision had the barrier not been in place.

_Who the hell has that kind of aim?_

He lurched around some more, cursing the fact that the Hulkbuster armor's head had almost no flexibility.

Something slashed at him from behind, this time leaving a significant mark according to the hull integrity alarm.

The shrieking noise the attack had made also tugged at his brain.

He spun around as quickly as he could, cursing the ponderous motion of the bulky armor. Clearly this choice had been a tactical error. Rhino wasn't working alone.

_This isn't a random attack, this was a set up. And I'm off my game because of this whole thing with David . . ._

_--_

Tony Stark took in his son's incredulous expression and couldn't help but grin. _About time somebody _else_ got to be shocked today._

"Can I have a name now, maybe?"

The teen managed to blink and close his mouth.

"You're Iron Man?"

Tony nodded.

"But that's impossible! He's heroic! He's an Avenger! He's—"

"Me." Tony was getting a little bit annoyed now. He sat down next to the boy and looked him in the eye. "I've just entrusted you with a secret very few people know. We have plenty of time to talk. Just tell me your name. Or would you prefer me to call you _kid_?"

His son looked at him appraisingly.

"You're not gonna call my Aunt, are you?"

_Aunt? Oh this just gets better and better. . ._

"No. But I'm about to call my security director. Spill it."

"David. It's David."

"David Cord, huh? That's a solid name."

David frowned and looked away, "Yeah, just so long as it isn't David _Stark_, right?"

Tony sighed and awkwardly put a hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Look, I had no idea you existed. In fact, I'm at a lost as to how you even came to exist. Janice—your mother--she _died_. I was there when it happened."

He saw David flinch as he pulled his shoulder out of reach. He immediately wondered how he could have put it more tactfully. All of his business sense and boardroom ability was worthless here. And his hero experience wasn't helping either.

He had loved Janice. Had even considered marrying her, but at that time he was still having heart issues. He could barely take off the chest plate for more than a few hours. Granted, he and Janice had made love more than a few times, but something still didn't add up. He was positive Janice wasn't pregnant.

Or maybe she just wasn't showing yet . . .

"David, I'm sorry. I knew your mom a long time ago. When she died, it was devastating. I mourned her for many months."

"Yeah, but you've certainly made up for lost time, haven't you?" David looked at him bitterly, "Tell me, _Dad_, who's better in the sack, the Wasp or the Black Widow? Or maybe Tigra or Madam Masque?"

Tony bit back a harsh response. Most of him was annoyed at the personal question, but a small part admired the kid's guts. "Okay, I'll take that. If you truly are my son, you have a right to be pissed."

"I thought you just told me that you were convinced!" The boy exclaimed, standing up angrily.

Tony closed his eyes and tilted his head back wearily, "The data all checks out. But I have to admit, I can't figure what happened."

He eventually opened them again and said, "Care to enlighten me?"

David looked away, but eventually began to speak . . .

--

"Am I boring you, Iron Man?"

Tony's focus returned to the task at hand, just in time to see his hidden opponent finally decide to make an appearance.

He recognized the skull facemask with the hood right away, although the body armor and gear was different.

"Taskmaster?"

"Give the man a prize, although you should really consider me Taskmaster 2.0." A metallic tendril coursing with dark energy extended from the back of the mercenary's gauntlet, "See, I have the upgrades to take down anyone."

_Necrolash? How the hell did he get a hold of Blacklash's tech? Still my armor should have no problem dealing with—_

A split second later, sensors recorded a hull breach as a strip of armor several inches long flicked into the air in the aftermath of another whip attack.

"How?" He blurted, truly stunned.

"Nice, huh? Scarlotti was on to something. But when you combine the idea with one of Constrictor's adamantium coils," Taskmaster stripped away another piece of metal with a flick of the wrist, "Well, I have a feeling I'll be able to flay just about any material. Even yours."

_This is bad._

"Hey, Rhino. Enjoy your dip?" Taskmaster called out.

"Not as much as I'm gonna enjoy this!"

Tony felt a sudden impact and made his acquaintance a wall of cargo containers.

Which promptly toppled, burying him in tons of twisted metal.

_This is REAL bad. _

_--_

David Cord marched diligently to the awaiting limo which would take him to his school and eventually back home where he was to be grounded for the next month. His Aunt had been less than pleased to find out he had spend most of the weekend going to raves and crashing at friends' houses.

If she had known the truth, he had no doubt he'd have been grounded until he was 18. Jessica Cord held no love for Mr. Anthony Stark that was for sure.

David wasn't so sure he did either, although the revelation that his father was actually Iron Man had doused a large portion of his anger. He was still trying to juxtapose his respect for the Golden Avenger with his loathing of Tony Stark.

Still, he _had_ spent all of Saturday helping him repair and update the Surge armor.

And he had to admit seeing a lot of familiarity in the way his father approached and solved problems. They seemed to be on the same page most of the time while working.

And he had felt some pride when Stark had praised his engineering skills.

"Stop it," he muttered to himself as he entered the back of the limo and switched on the TV, throwing his backpack on the seat beside him, "He's still an asshole for abandoning me, even though he says he didn't know."

An image on the television screen caught his attention as the limo pulled carefully into traffic. He turned up the volume.

"--apparently receiving the worst of it," the correspondent was saying as wobbly video widened to show the much of a port facility which he recognized as being part of the Long Island Stark facility, "For some reason Iron Man is wearing a bulky reinforced suit, perhaps to better combat the Rhino. However, the Avenger apparently didn't account for a second assailant who we have yet to identify but has clearly put Iron Man back on his heels."

The reporter droned on, but David was no longer paying any attention.

He pushed the button that raised the privacy divider.

Once the back of the driver's head disappeared, he immediately opened his backpack and pulled out his mask.

He hadn't felt like going to school anyway . . .


End file.
